Some dreams at the crack of Dawn give the feel of pleasant morning twilight because those are totally an unforeseen one.
You just wake up to realize, that is, only a dream and not real. That time, your chest feels heavy
and it hardens and it burdens.

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What is poetry?

My daughter’s name:

Al Ninacska Filza

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Men who look for career oriented Women

are life material.

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Art is drawing Kajal in my baby girl's eyes.

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Singing 'Channa Mereya'

from ex/lover

to baby girl/baby boy

we become parents.

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Drops of Tears in eyes

when I see my little one’s innocent sleepy face.

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My baby girl is a
Laughing Lamborghini
and a
Smiling Skoda.

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Ceiling Glass Lights outside

Broken Mirrors inside.

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Writing your absence
was once my favourite 
vulnerable art.
But only
my Lord knows that
you were the wrong choice
of Yellow Carnations. 

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Drops of tears
&
Heaviness of breath
when thinking about ;
the hands of
tirelessly worked and working,
the consistent hums of
prayer,
from
the single Mother
only for you.

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